Rescuers Pull Hunter from Freezing Bangor, Maine Bog

Rescuers on Friday pulled a hunter from frigid waters that left the man so numb he couldn't move.

The hunter, identified as Tom Gagne, 35, of Bangor, was rescued from the bog and taken by ambulance to Eastern Maine Medical Center in Bangor where a hospital official said he was treated and later released.

During the incident, a LifeFlight helicopter landed on more solid ground about a half mile away from the bog - in a neighbor's yard - in case it was needed.

Emergency personnel described the rescue as a difficult one because of the weather conditions and terrain.

Gagne was hunting with friends in the area by Ruggles Stream near Route 69 and Interstate 95 when he became deeper and deeper entrenched in a beaver bog, one of his rescuers said.

Gagne became soaked and cold and used a two-way radio to reach his party. He also began yelling for help.

Brenda Thibodeau, 47, and her family live at the end of Harley Drive, and about 2:30 p.m. she heard what sounded like a shout coming from beyond the woods that separate the home from the bog. She listened a second time to make sure she really heard what she thought she heard, the Carmel woman said.

When certain, Thibodeau called 911 for help.

Rescuers, including ambulance crews, firefighters, Penobscot County sheriff's deputies and wardens, converged on the area, using an ATV and trudging on foot along small paths that quickly deteriorated into bog.

Despite ice on the bog, thick grass, cattails 5 to 6 feet high, trees and brush - not to mention cold temperatures - rescuers were confident they would locate Gagne, although they weren't sure in what condition they would find him.

"We knew we would get him out," Warden Dan Scott said after spending about 90 minutes, a good part of it wading in the freezing water, participating in the rescue. "We had voice contact with him; it was just whether he would lose consciousness or slip into hypothermia."

Racing against the conditions, Scott and Game Warden Kevin Adam borrowed a canoe from neighbors and tried to paddle their way to Gagne. They could hear him but not see him because the growth was so dense.

Gagne was about 400 to 500 yards from shore, a significant distance that was made all the more difficult by the elements. Scott said the ice that capped the bog was hard enough that they couldn't slide across it, but too soft to walk on. In the canoe, they began to cut a path through the ice.

As they forged ahead, they kept in regular contact with Gagne, who told the wardens that he was cold and cramping up.

Sometimes he wouldn't answer them right away and the wardens weren't sure if he couldn't respond or if their shouts simply had gotten lost or delayed in the wind. Then Gagne would shout back, to their relief, Scott said.

Icebreaking only got them so far. The grass and growth became too thick and halted their forward momentum.

Scott said they made the decision that if they were going to reach Gagne in time, they would have to wade in. Wearing only their regular warden's uniforms, they entered the cold waters and pulled the canoe in the direction the shouts were coming from.

They trudged in the water for about 15 minutes before they reached Gagne. His radio had long become waterlogged and useless, and the hunter himself was essentially rooted to where he was.

"When we found him, he couldn't move," Scott said.

Gagne had managed to stand on a log, but the water that was waist level for the wardens was still knee deep on the hunter.

"Man, am I glad to see you guys," Gagne managed to tell the wardens, Scott recounted.

They got the hunter into the canoe, cut away his pants and covered his legs with their coats to warm him. It took about 15 minutes to get him on board and warmed up before they were ready for the return trip.

The wardens pulled the canoe for another 15 minutes until they reached Hermon firefighters garbed in cold weather wet suits and holding line to attach to the canoe.